


Think on it

by Anonymous



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, One-Sided Attraction, Parasites, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25352929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Deals with the Nightmare King don't always go the way Wilson wants, but none of them have ever fallen through.This one, however, he probably should have thought through a bit better.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 83
Collections: Anonymous





	Think on it

Of all the badly thought out decisions Wilson has made in his lifetime, this had to be the worst.

Not even the fact that he had listened and made a _deal_ with a mysterious voice on the radio, only to create a horrid portal and get kidnapped and trapped into a world that has killed him over and over again could trump this, not at _all_.

"Thinking of changing your mind, pal?"

Why was he so damn _stupid_ , Wilson thought to himself, and gave his answer back as a harsh glare over his shoulder, scowling as he finally got to shrugging off his vest. The buttons had taken him a moment, he didn't like taking off what little clothing he had in this place due to the possibility that it may just end up disappearing or getting torn to shreds moments later, but the unreadable, almost calculated look he was getting told him that patience was not an issue.

The demon behind him watched, watched like he always did, in the darkest of nights and the deepest of caves, forests, the shadows bending and kneeling and crawling, withering all about to Their King, and Wilson turned his head away, scowl creeping into a sneer as he haphazardly folded his vest and tossed it away, into a corner of the tent.

At least he was in a tent, his tent, and not...not out next to the fire, in the open bare air, on some grass mat he had thrown together in a tired, exhausted mess days ago. 

"I've already made my decision." His voice was firm, hard and without any quiver, or at the very least as quiverless as he could make it. It's been days, given the time to think this through, and he was so damnably _idiotic_ but he wasn't going to put a stop to it now. "Or, do you want me to change my mind?"

"Oh, of _course_ not, not at _all_." 

The shadows in the corners of the tent seemed to expand, flood outwards, and Wilson glowered at them, glowered at the fact that all the thermal stones he had spread out in here were so dim, that the raging firepit outside his tent seemed to dull, that the night outside under full moon had suddenly grown so cloudy. 

All his efforts at chasing the dark away, bring in as much light as possible for this, and he knew Maxwell was smirking at him, the darkness oozing even deeper, even stronger the longer he looked.

Faintly, he could hear the shifting of movement, the fur patched blankets and prickly feather stuffed pillows strewn about his tent dipping with another's weight, moving around, and the stink of nightmare fuel and darkness filled the small space, filled the air even as Wilsons eyes screwed up and a disgusted look crept on his face.

His tent better not smell like this for long, or he'd burn it down. Better to start from scratch than have some awful thing sitting here to remind him of his foul luck and terrible decision making skills.

"...You can always back out, Higgsbury." That slow drawl of a voice rose up far closer than he had expected, made Wilson tense as the hairs on the back of his neck rose, a shiver up his spine at the closeness and the drawn out use of his name, tone shifting dark and quiet like. "Just ask, and I leave you to yourself."

Wilson chewed on that, like he knew he would, but he also knew he'd not take the bait. Their deal, made almost a week ago if his timing was still correct in this godawful place, had left him two choices, two options, no matter how slick and snide the demon behind him was making it out to sound.

Winter was coming, just around the corner, and Wilson needed more time. A few more weeks, a month if he was lucky even, otherwise this would be a far harsher snow season than he knew he could survive. Too much time dallying on the farms, pretending for a moment that he could even _relax_ for once in autumn, and then that first frosty wind had hit sooner than he had thought and Wilson was brought back to the reality of this horrid place. 

It wanted him dead, no matter how hard he worked against that, and if Wilson could be spiteful enough to give himself more time then any deal the Nightmare King offered was worth it.

Well...well, obviously it had taken him a bit to decide that. This wasn't going to be a walk in the park, not at all, and feeling the demons eyes boring into his back, as if to see straight past the thin shirt he still had on and to the scars he's had to live through littering his spine, it almost gave him second thoughts.

But he was smart enough, had enough foresight to know he'd die this winter, probably in a very painful manner to boot. 

"S'not much of a choice." Wilson grumbled as he fumbled with the buttons to his shirt, dirtied and lightly ripped but still in one whole piece, thank god or whatever else was out there. Knowing he was being stared at, every day, every night, no matter what he was doing, made the smaller things matter most, even if it was as small as keeping voyeuristic eyes off his bare skin.

As if that mattered at all with what he was going to do now, but Wilson stubbornly ignored that thought.

"Always a choice, pal, always a choice." The sweeping drone of the demon's voice rose and fell like the shadows waving about the tents walls, darkening the corners as if into the deepest of nights, and Wilson hunched his shoulders, ignored the feeling of breath exhaled to the back of his neck. "I can't have you thinking that I am _forcing_ you, now can I? If you want me to leave…"

Another hot breath, like a furnace, just right against his skin as Wilson fully tensed, eyes squinted and scowl hard on his face, hands bundling the edges of his shirt into fists. 

"Then just say the word."

For a second Wilson almost lingered, almost, before catching himself with visions of slow, painful deaths in the freezing landscapes of this hell's winter, and it really _wasn't_ much of a choice.

"Death won't be stopping you, pal." There was a sound, might have been a laugh or chuckle but hinging deep, dark like the shadows and the taste of nightmares in the very air itself. "The other option will not be the end of you, you know."

" _I know_." Wilson hissed back, jaw grit tight, almost painfully, but after a moment of closing his eyes, a different colored darkness to his eyelids than the shadows he had invited into his tent, Wilson slowly let his hands unfurl, leaving more wrinkles in his shirt. 

Death was still painful, and he's worked so hard, lived so long by the virtue of his will and his will alone. This was a serious blow, to finally give in and accept another deal, but _Wilson did not want to die._

So, he wasn't going to. Instead, he'll suffer his part of the bargain and reap whatever rewards he can get out of the demon for his end of the deal. Maybe he can even get a damn hint out of this all, though at this point Wilson greatly doubted it.

"I am not changing my mind."

His words left him almost with a hint of relief, but the trepidation for what he actually would have to _do_ still lingered, would stay lingering, up until it would eventually happen.

"Good, _Higgsbury_." His name was stretched again, as if in an exhale of that heated breath, and there was a satisfaction there, greedy and snide. " _Very_ good."

There was more shifting, movement, and Wilson vaguely caught sight of hands stretching out behind him, right in the corner of his eyes, darkened and thin, much longer and sharper than normal human hands should be before the demon spoke once more.

"Now, if you'll allow me, I can speed up the process of your undress-"

"Keep your hands to yourself!" Wilson snapped, jerking forward in a half scrambled turn, glaring at the dark, shadowy figure looming behind him. His hands held tight to his shirt, tight enough to feel the strain of the fibres and threads but not willing to let go just yet, as he held the dark, pitch blackened gaze of the Nightmare King.

There was a grin there, crooked and splintered off as if too big to fit his face, too many sharp fanged teeth, too much amusement even at his reaction, but Maxwell let his hands fall, splayed talons closing up as he leaned ever so slightly forward, enough to hover in Wilsons space and make him lean back inadvertently.

"For someone who _wants_ to do this, you seem oddly hesitant, pal."

The frown on Wilson's face couldn't go deeper, a mixture of scowling that lingered in a helpless snarl, but he held the gaze for a few more seconds before his head began to pound and his ears started to ring and he had to look away, into the dark shadows and the nightmarish air. 

"Just give me a moment, alright? I thought you had more patience, being a king and all."

"Oh, boundless patience, Higgsbury." Again, his name, said in a way and tone he couldn't quite identify but still made him tense and entirely too uncomfortable. Maxwell smiled wickedly at him, a slight tilt of his head and hands folding politely in his lap. "I have all the time in the world, but I do not quite think _you_ do."

The darkness in the space seemed to grow deeper, as if to dig its roots into the very fabric of his tent, and Wilson watched and knew he was going to burn it down when this was all over.

"Time is ticking, pal, and the night won't be lasting forever."

No matter his own discomfort, the demon was right. Wilson can't keep putting this off, not without losing it altogether, and he was already this far.

Just, get it over with, he thought to himself, eyes cast downwards as he slipped his shirt off himself, goosebumps over his skin even with the warm air of the tent, the feeling of sharp eyes accosting his bared chest and back, but all Wilson did was fold his shirt up in a haphazard semi competent way and toss it to join his vest, a pile of clothing he knew he'd quickly slip on in the morning, much later from now. 

Just focus on getting this done, and soon enough it'll be a new day and he'll have all the time he'd need. No more dilly dallying around.

He couldn't feel impatience in the air, as he fingered the bands of his trousers and focused on steeling his will, but he sure could feel the force of those eyes, the way the shadows leaned as the Nightmare King sat there, primely dressed and clean and spotless as Wilson undressed his worn clothes and bore his rugged, scared up self.

But, when he finally did slip them down, bent his legs and shimmied out before flinging them away with little care left to it, now exposed with only boxers remaining, the air still stayed the same.

Patient, watchful, the smell of the fuel heavy in the air and the shadows leeching away the light with every passing second. Only the odd reflection of Maxwell's eyes, his dark outline and little else, the barest hint of the firelight outside the tent, and Wilson found himself crossing his arms over his bare chest, a hint of embarrassment, shame rising to his throat.

As long as he survived another day, to hell with his dignity, right?

"You never had much of that anyway, didn't you pal?"

"...I had enough." Wilson muttered, low and quiet and mostly just for himself, in this situation he got himself into and was agreeing to go all out for, just for his hopeful prize of time at the end.

He didn't truly trust the demon, but none of the deals he has made with the Nightmare King have ever fallen through, not even once. He's always gotten what he asked for.

The dark silhouette moved, drew closer now, in his bubble of space and eyeing him with something that almost looked like curiosity, deep interest, besides for that dark glaze that pitch black pupiless eyes gave, and Wilson couldn't help but lean back a bit.

Didn't matter much, when Maxwell followed him, creeping slow and steady, closer and closer, looming and enreathed with shadows and the sulphur stink of nightmare fuel-

"Last chance." The words broke Wilson out of the daze, or trance, or whatever it was that had kept him frozen and motionless, and now he sucked in a shaky breath, arms crossed and hands tight against his own skin, as if to guard himself against something he knew was inevitable. "Say the word, and I'll be gone."

For a moment he held his breath, chest aching and that faint trembling making itself known to his limbs, but Wilson made himself take a steady breath, then another, mind set and choice made. 

"A deal's a deal." He said, voice clear and steady, and after another breath the rest of him settled a bit, the stiffness letting go ever so slightly. He's made his choice, and he was going to follow through.

The grin that spread on the Nightmare King's face was sharp, thin and yet almost blindly wide, and Wilson had to keep himself from flinching when taloned hands suddenly landed upon his shoulders, firm and solid and very, very hot.

"Good, very good." A tilt of the head, that grin with sharp, jagged teeth that didn't seem to quite fit and yet did anyway, and Maxwell's voice was smooth, orderly as he spoke, as the shadows about the tent grew thicker in number and depth. "Now, take off what's left and we can finally start."

Talons pressed warmly to his bare shoulders, not quite digging but as if threatening to, hot palms firm and flat as clawed thumbs rubbed small circles to his sensitive skin, and Wilson fought the shiver, the sharp sensation of touch, not quite human but almost enough, he hasn't been touched by another in a very, very, _very_ long time and even with shadows surrounding him this was already as if too much, not exactly what he had agreed to-

But he unclenched his hands, lowered his arms and hooked his thumbs to the band of his boxers, this last rugged piece of what he had inadvertently brought here, what protected him from the elements and unwanted eyes, and now, here with a hovering demon watching him intently, Wilson carefully slid them down and off. Tossed to the rest of his clothing, and now completely nude, feeling a gaze that seemed as if to be devouring him, one scrap of flesh at a time, and it was taking all he had in him for Wilson to not call this off, shove the talons on him away and scramble back to gather his clothing to him once again.

But he's already said it; a deal's a deal, and he was going to carry his end of the bargain.

For near a full minute he sat, still and tense and heart thundering in his chest, hands clawed into the fur bedding under him and eyes not quite meeting the intent stare he was being given. As each second ticked on by, as the shadows pulsed across the walls of his tent and pooled to the corners, the pitched ceiling, as those claws kept their contact to him and those eyes continued to observe him, Wilson waited.

"...Well?"

There wasn't much of a thick silence to break, an expectant uptick to the Nightmare Kings voice, the sharp toothed smirk curling upwards ever so slightly, and Wilson forced himself to raise his eyes, familiar scowl settling to his face as he locked glazes, this time not willing to break first.

"What." Not even a question, Wilson couldn't find it in himself to sound curious, to force some sort of commanding question out, not like this, completely exposed and at the mercy of a usually merciless demon. 

"You know what _I_ want, Higgsbury." There was no irritation in his voice, nothing but a smooth lull of sound, simple, as if speaking to a child, and yet Wilson could see that grin still, feel the slightest of squeezes to his shoulders from warm talons. "But _you_ get to decide how it goes."

There was amusement, plainly threaded through his voice, and Wilson glared at the demon and knew Maxwell found all this _amusing._

Of course he did. The Nightmare King found everything Wilson did amusing, from dying horribly complex deaths to making terrible mistakes that took him seasons upon seasons to finally realize and then have to live with until he died once again, like always.

"Time is ticking, pal-"

"Fine!" Wilson spat, his own hands aching from how hard he was clenching them, before he forcefully untensed them and spread his fingers, stretched his arms a bit as he let out an uncontrollable, shaky little exhale. "Fine."

Maxwell smiled at him, amused and half satisfied, and the instant Wilson started to move those talons crept down his shoulders, curled lightly to his arms and smoothly brushed down them, circled his wrist a moment or two, just enough to still his movements for a pause before finally drawing away.

Goosebumps rose wherever they had touched, shivers up Wilsons spine at the contact, warm and pressure and actual _touch_ , but his focus quickly pulled him back.

He did know what the Nightmare King wanted, from the beginning when the bargain had first been explained. When he had first been told what Maxwell wanted of him.

Honestly, it would have been better if it had just been sex. God, or whatever was listening out there, it would have been so much _better_ if all Wilson would have had to do was suffer a bit of humiliating sexual treatment. He...he was sure he could have lived with that.

But this was entirely different.

_"A bit of a thought experiment involving the fuel." Maxwell had hummed at him, half obscured by the firelight, just a step away from the flames and in the dark embrace of the night. A thick cloud of tobacco smoke, exhaled and making Wilson have to turn away and cough, choke on the coiling smog, and the grin the Nightmare King had leveled him was absolutely wicked. "Think of it as a science, if it will help you understand. A bit of biology, genetics, anatomy even; I'm sure a mind as sharp as yours can figure the minute details in the meantime."_

Of course Wilson hadn't "figured the minute details" out. A bit hard to wrap your mind around the general concept Maxwell wanted to do to him anyhow, which was why he had been sitting here, waiting.

He didn't even have a full grasp of it yet! How the hell was this "thought experiment" even plausible!?

A sigh, long and drawn out and almost dramatic, broke through Wilson's thoughts, as well as the tickling talons suddenly brushing his ribs, down to his pudgy gut. 

"And here I had thought you were a genius. Didn't even think it over before deciding, did you?"

"I did!" Wilson hissed, low as he ignored the squirming in his chest just from that soft, ghosting touch. "I have the general idea!"

"Do you now?" Maxwell smirked at him now, that amusement almost thick enough in the air to cut, mixing to the fuels stench and the near pitch black darkness. The demon tilted his head condescendingly, watching him as Wilson struggled to not grab those wandering talons, trailing up and down his sides with no path in mind.

It took a moment, to recognize that he was being asked an actual question, no rhetoric in sight. Wilson glared up at Maxwell, scowl matched against the amused smirk, his hands itching to shove away the touch currently sending shivers up and down his spine, his breath shuttering and heart pounding ever harder. 

_Do you really want me to answer that?_

A few more moments, holding that gaze and toughing out the teasing brushed of warm talons to his ribs, round the slightest swell of his belly and then back up once more, before Wilson finally had to break.

The night wasn't young, and he can't stay silent forever.

"Yes, yes I do." Quiet, a strained exhale, and Wilson carefully ignored the claws on him, instead turned his gaze away and started to adjust himself.

Spreading his legs, stretching briefly and rolling his feet, the faint crackle of his ankles. The thin figure of Maxwell stayed still, on his knees, watching intently, and with his legs outspread Wilson had them around the demon, still not close enough to touch but quite close. 

Heat rose upon his face, spread down his neck and hot under his skin as he exposed himself in this way, not daring to look at the Nightmare King, at that thick amusement. His privacy was completely gone now, nude and under staunch view, and all Wilson could do was rattle what little he knew that he was here to do and hope that his inexperience, his unsureness was easy enough to read and recognize.

Thankfully, the Nightmare King seemed to know this already. The words spoken at his expense probably were nothing but to goad him, get under his skin, because there was literally no reason at all for Wilson to know how exactly nightmare fuel was supposed to be combined into this sort of equation.

Maxwell leaned over him, met his gaze with a clear, steady pitch black one crawling with shadow and interest, catching his stare, eye to eye.

Silence, as Wilsons breath seemed to suddenly lodge in his throat, that ringing in his ears increasing in volume, strength, pulse pounding in his head as the darkness seemed to breath around him, seemed to be taking his own breath for itself, tightening in his lungs and shrinking down, crushed under the weight of darkness and the Nightmare Kings glowing black stare before-

Before he was suddenly distracted by a hot hand pressing to his thigh.

He tensed immediately, shocks of the contact and heat as those taloned fingers played up and down, brushing his knee and rising close, close, almost before switching paths and going to rub and cup his bony hip bone, still sparking that spreading warmth, that spreading sensitivity in each shallow touch and brief ghostly brush over with bare hot talons. 

His breath came to him a great shudder, not knowing whether to keep tensed up or not, shivers up his spine as the action was looped, repeated in a slow drag of contact that dipped close, too close to his groin, down the flesh of his leg and then low, pressing full to his thigh and gently, very carefully making him spread his leg out a bit more, give a bit more space. Wilson couldn't force himself to look up, hands fisted into the blankets under him, his every exhale and inhale shivery and too warm, and he almost closed his eyes even, forcing himself still, to not melt under the hot physical contact.

He hasn't been touched in a _very_ long time.

Wilson may not be looking, but he could just _feel_ that grin, that smirk and heavy thick satisfaction, amusement at his expense and the toothy smile plastered on the Nightmare King's face. 

He was such an _idiot_ , Wilson thought to himself, but as the constant touch swept up and down his leg, dipped around low and pressed hot talons in sweeping pets that made him shiver a bit harder, he also knew that this actually felt _nice._

_Goddamn it._

There was movement, a bit of shifting about, but he didn't dare open his eyes, didn't dare give himself sight to what was unfolding before him.

Deal's a deal, and there was a dark twisting in his chest because Wilson was _hating_ every second of it even as his breathes grew shallow and the heat under his skin spread.

"Just relax, pal." The genuine shock of how close that voice was, near right against his ear and hummed with that stupid amusement laced thick within in, and he had to clench his jaw hard to not make a sound, no surprise or tense exhale as that hand continued its way up and down his leg, sweeping hotly against his thigh and dipping too close, all too close before receding back once more. "This shouldn't take long, if you cooperate."

There was a light squeeze, as if to punctuate the words, talons wrapped tight to his leg and then pushing, forcing him to have to adjust himself even more as he spread himself, and now the true weight of this was coming down on him, his expose and nudity flickering anxiety thick in his chest and making his next breathes a bit more choked, _why did he decide to go through with this-_

He froze as another hand suddenly brushed talons to his other knee, the first going still, spread against his thigh. Those claws trailed up, almost teasingly, and now Wilson could feel the hot exhaled breath of the demon, steady and unperturbed, as if completely unaffected by the fact that Wilson was _naked_ and _baring_ himself like he was to the Nightmare King's mercy, and he had to suck in a shuddering breath, get some air back to his flagging lungs as that hand trailed up his leg with a slow, steady, merciless pace.

There wasn't even a hint of a pause, only his breath catching to his throat and Wilson suddenly almost having enough will to break this entire deal off as that hand brushed his hip and then suddenly cupped around his backside, hot talons grabbing his ass and _forcefully_ dragging him forward-

But then that other hand was wrapped about his throat, pushing him back to the ground and the fur bedding and holding weight to him, threatening even when his own hands had whipped up to grab at the demon's wrist, eyes flashing open to stare at the dark silhouette looming above him.

Wilson had his mouth open, a snarl already forming even as talons swept distractingly hot touch to his lower back, dipping almost teasingly to grasp and feel up his ass, but the Nightmare King leaned over him, too close, staring him down and still holding that snarky, amusing grin, too many teeth and that ringing to return twice fold to echo in Wilsons skull, bouncing between his ears and steadily growing stronger.

"I thought I told you to relax."

A sound, like a laugh or chuckle or even _giggle_ , something laced in it that didn't sound right, and hot nightmarish breath was exhaled over him, a squeeze to his throat that made him choke and head pound in the thick air, and Maxwell stared down at him, having entirely too much fun torturing him like this. Talons poked at him, dipping suddenly a bit too low for Wilson's comfort, and his own grip tightened as he tensed up at the feeling, the slow, languid touches that sent shivers of sensitivity and reaction up and throughout his very nerves, hot and over sensitive to the littlest of things. 

"If you can't even do that small little thing, then I suppose I will need to take matters into my own hands, right pal?" The hand about his throat suddenly loosened up, the threat still there as the tips of claws were dragged to the dip of his throat, pressed to hot, thin skin before trailing downwards, taloned thumb pressed to his clavicle and brushing down his breastbone, palm outspread and leaving a heated path and goosebumps on its way. Wilsons own hands hovered a moment, still focused in taking a shuddery breath, still trying to not focus on the hand groping his ass, and then those eyes seemed to look away from him a moment and the ringing in his head eased and Wilson had his hands in the blankets, limbs tensing up as to spring up and shove off him-

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." 

No amusement in that statement, cold and dark and lacking emotion, and Wilson couldn't stop himself from darting his gaze up and once more locking to the empty void pits of the demon's eyes. A cold freeze, sudden understanding when there was a hot palm pressed to his gut and talons pricking his skin, threatening, just how much force would it take for those nightmarish claws to pierce through his skin and carve into his body?

How easy would it be, for the demon to do such a thing?

For a moment there was silence, silence as Wilson held his breath and the Nightmare King watched him, gauging just how willing he was to call this off.

Then that toothy fanged smile spread through the dark shadowy silhouette, the air losing its threat not even a second later, and there was a light squeeze as those talons palmed his belly, as Wilson shuttered out a shaky exhale.

"Good, Higgsbury. I would rather you not back out now." The heated touch was starting to get a little much, unused to contact and oversensitive to every little brush, pet, pressure, that other hand still gripping his backside with a firm, almost possessive force. "We have only just gotten started, after all."

Wilson didn't know how much longer he could hold out, didn't know what to do as his hands finally clawed into the blankets underneath him and he forced himself to watch, this time, forced himself to take a shuddery breath and then another one, one after the other, _just get through this-_

And then that hand, pressed warm to his gut, suddenly dipped lower.

That made him shut his eyes tight, the sudden flush of heat in his skin and his blood, that and the light, amused little laugh of an exhale.

"All that drama, all the trouble you bring yourself, Higgsbury…" Another exhaled laugh, contrasting heavy to the darkness of his eyelids and the fact that his next inhale was shaky, his lungs tight as that hand wrapped about his half hard interest without even a hint of hesitation. 

Exhaled breath was suddenly brushing against his face, the heat of a body lowering itself above him, the thrum of a voice to his ear and that ever thick amusement, now tainted with something else, something far thicker, and it shot through his tightly wound body, tense and apprehensive and chock full of high strung nerves, those threats still hovering about him, and Wilson's face contorted into a helpless snarl.

Maxwell hummed another sound, another almost laugh when he twitched in the demon's hands, that heat getting the best of him no matter how he tried to keep himself steady.

"Look at you." Whispered into his ear, a shiver crawling up and down his spine and goosebumps rising from the warm breath, and then another shiver as that hand tightened, a warm, encompassing grip that near blanked Wilson's mind by the sudden act of it. "All that trouble and you were getting off on it, weren't you?"

A part of him wanted to argue, wanted to open his mouth and fight back at the accusation, but a talon was suddenly rubbing the tip of his erection and Wilson didn't trust his voice, a shaky inhale and ever shakier exhale as his hands tightened almost painfully into the fur bedding, still tense, still not ready to untense even as his cock was guided into a hardened salute, hot talons and warm, grasping palms.

He couldn't focus on the hand groping his ass, couldn't focus on the shadows sloping thick about his tent, couldn't even focus on opening his eyes again, only the hot breath exhaled to the thin skin under his ear, against his neck, the even hotter dragging touch as clawed hands started to stoke him.

Wilson has not been touched in a long, long time, and survival didn't give him enough time to take matters into his own hands, too much to do to take care of anything in the morning or try to relax at night, never enough time or energy or focus, and his oversensitivity was biting him in the ass now, along with the talons lightly dragging themselves down the curve of his backside and going further, almost as if seeking-

But he couldn't focus on that, couldn't focus on any of that when there was a hand tight about his cock, pumping him at a steady pace he near couldn't keep up with, something else lapping at the edges of his mind and seeping through with his every gasping inhale, exhale, just enough in him to not make a sound, close his throat off from letting even a hint of a noise escape him, but it was getting harder and harder-

That palm was so hot, warm and the texture dragging against him, not too fast or too rough and twisting deftly, suddenly to his head and Wilson didn't even realize he had bucked into the motion, a rugged half choked gasp slipping from his throat as hot talons pressed up and slid against the curve of his ass, spread him and lifted and were suddenly pressing against the part him he near never truly considered _sexual_ -

"My, you should see yourself, pal." A hum, to break him from the wash of sensations, pressed to his ear and exhaled hotly, damp to his skin, and Wilson gaped at the sensation, touch circling skin, the lightest of pressure, even as his cock was still stroked and pulled on, distracting and encompassing but not as encompassing as a whispered thin, amused voice humming in his ear. "What a pretty picture."

A shift, in movement or shadows Wilson didn't know, didn't open his eyes, shut tight and shuddering and heaving for breath, his skin sparking, burning from the trailing touches and his cock throbbing, waves of heat as his backside was tested and a deep pressure was building under his gut, legs spread and knees trembling, everything trembling under the heat and the touch and the too much of it all.

It's been too long, and even a demon's touch was just enough, right enough, as Wilson let his head fall back finally, just for a moment, shoulders relaxing down, the knot building within him growing, tightening even as the strain left him to be replaced with waves of heat and what was probably pleasure, striking pleasure that bubbled in his blood and spread with every gasping breath, every twitch and jerk, every sweeping, stroking touch to his skin.

"Close, pal?" The build up was speeding up, talons twisting to his cock and pumping him a hint faster, pre streaking down them and coating his dick as Wilson's chest heaved, the faintest twitch of a thrust into the sensation, and the touch to his backside was ghosting, pressing touch and circling before going to cup his cheek, tight and hot before dipping back down and prodding him, the unknown touch, pressure compounding together in a hazy swirl of heat and gasps and sensitivity, too much, almost too much-

His back arched as the pace intensified a moment, talons pumping his member, leaking fluid as there was a sudden tense tightening, a tug throughout his nerves as Wilson shuddered, tensed up, mouth open and another, louder sound escaped him at the sudden bundling of sensation started to fall from the edge of it all-

"How selfish." 

And then the hand was gone, talons gone, cock thrust up to the empty air as his voice choked, and Wilson couldn't stop the whimper, the twist of his face as he trembled, tense and aching and pent up and right, right _there-_

And then his strength failed him, dropped back from where his spread legs had lifted him up, panting as his cock twitched and throbbed at the sudden emptiness, brain awash in the sensations and not quite piecing it together, drowned in oversensitivity and the force of _too much at once._

Those hot talons, both sets were wrapped to his legs now, a loose hold against his thighs, keeping him spread, and only now Wilson's mind vaguely caught up enough to what had been voiced, in the air only moments ago.

"W-what?" His own voice was hoarse, strained, swallowing thickly as Wilson raised his heavy head, heart pounding in his chest and cock throbbing between his legs, laying against his stomach and streaked with pre, and all he could see with his hazy vision was that toothy, too large smile, jagged teeth and the dark eyes of the Nightmare King.

"You haven't even considered your part of the deal yet, have you?" 

His thoughts were a bit slow on the uptake, still drenched in the leftover agonizing abandonment, right at the edge, and Wilson blinked blankly at the demon, at the nightmarish smile and the slow rubbing of taloned thumbs to his thighs.

Maxwell took initiative, thankfully, and those talons started a slow path up his legs and to his waist, to curl around his hips, completely ignoring his throbbing erection. 

Then the dark form moved, leaned down to once more breath against his neck, speak low, smooth flowing words into his ear, and Wilson's eyelids fluttered, a shiver as his heart rate started to become manageable once again, eyes half closed and then, when a hot exhale washed over his skin, he bit his lower lip, body hot and strained and on edge, waiting.

"Let's get started, pal." This time it wasn't just breath, and Wilson shuddered, head tilting at the sensation of a mouth, lips and tongue and faint grazing teeth to just under his ear, the sensation flashing hot in his gut and making his cock twitch heavy against his belly. "Just try to relax."

Both hands twisted, cupped his ass and by now Wilson was practically in the demon's lap, legs outstretched and chest still inhaling, exhaling heavily, only now starting to even out. His mind was unfogging, slowly but surely, and he unclenched his tight grip to the blankets under him, sucking in a breath as the demon nipped his neck. The flare of pain was brief, the cold air washing over before a wet mouth descended and tongue bathed over the mark, and those talons groped him, messaging the flesh of his backside as Wilson tried to wrangle the rest of his thoughts together.

Everywhere he was touched it was a burning heat, a lush burning heat that sunk deep to his bones, oozing through his nerves and straight to his hard dick, and the heat of the edge, of that edge of the moment was receding but the replacement of sensitive touching was addling him even more.

The deal, he thought dizzily, blurrily, his part of it, he knew it wasn't _sex_. There was more to it, the nightmare fuel-

The thoughts cut out under his disorientation the moment one of those talons finally dipped down and pressed, breached him.

It couldn't be said he was _unprepared_ , but Wilson was unwarned in the most basic of senses and he tensed up immediately, hands going to the shoulders above him and clinging even as teeth scraped his throat with a near threatening pinch.

"Pal." Low, risen to his ear once more, and that other taloned hand had trailed back to his gut, palm pressed hotly to his skin, and the chuckle wasn't much entertained anymore so much as a hint put out. "I said _relax_."

Hot talons suddenly dipping, ghosting the head of his cock and trailing a finger down the underside, against a vein and brushing low to his base, distraction enough to make Wilson inhale again, breath shaky and rough as the discomfort became more apparent, more invading.

It wasn't as if he's not experimented a bit with himself. It was more that Wilson did not find himself in many sexual interactions, and his know how of something as primal as this was deeply lacking.

To the point where it was hard to focus on relaxing, on untensing his body as he knew he should, especially since that was a _talon_ , but Wilson found himself shakily inhaling, exhaling, hands tight enough to perhaps bruise those bony shoulders, and his voice was still hoarse and dry and he was getting more and more distracted by the claws running up and down his cock, under his head to base and brief to his tense balls, but he still forced the words out, hot in the face and ashamed as he was.

"H-hard to-" He cut himself off with a sharp, messy inhale, brought on by claws twisting about his cock and polishing his head for a few seconds, shakily exhaling a muffled sound in response when they pulled away. "H-hard to do th-that when-"

The talon in his ass, having not moved much since first entering him, suddenly twisted, a curl of movement that stretched with mild burning pains, the intrusion unfamiliar and too unknown to let his cock fully distract him, but Wilson gulped in a breath and spat the words out, hot wet breath lapping against the sore spots of his neck.

"W-when your damn c-claw is right in there!" 

Another twist, making Wilson hiss and bury his face against the shoulder atop him, the wafting cloud of nightmare fuel and the dark and the lower, faint hint of something else, something all too connected to the Nightmare King and the night, but the talon in him did not remove itself, did nothing but slowly stretch him, parting in and out at a snail's pace, the discomfort only increasing in intensity.

"Part of the deal, Higgsbury. Something I'm sure you will get used to." There was insinuation in that statement, vague innuendo that Wilson only briefly caught, before there was suddenly two claws in his ass and the burn grew exponentially, building up and, after a moment, he could now feel the tentative brush of the talons on his flagging cock. 

There was a pause at that, as Wilson panted, eyes shut tight and the sensation outweighing his previous pleasures, thoughts coming back around to think of calling this damn deal off, but then the pause unfolded as those talons curved, other pair wrapping loose to his neglected dick in unison, and-

And then a deep static pleasure, pressure that burst in swirls under his gut and made him arch, see stars in the dark shadows of his tent as those claws brushed against something inside him he's forgotten, gasping against the hot shoulder and the warm tongue trailing his neck, coating in saliva and hot breath. The feeling came in waves, in the small thrusts made by those claws, sparks shooting through his brain and blood rushing back to his dick, dizzy and high off the sensation as those claws pumped his cock once more, firm and steady as talons worked him open.

In no time at all whatever had been fading was back in full force, shaky gasps as his hips moved, up to push his cock into those hot palms and then shifting down to rub those claws against the bundle of nerves inside him, sending sparks and blips of white hot pleasure coursing throughout his nerves, mixing with the burn, spreading through his limbs and pooling thickly under his gut.

"There you go, pal." A murmur to his ear, something that almost sounded like relief before it was swept away by that ghastly amusement, and a nip to his earlobe, sharp and pinching and completely overtaken by the stroking of his cock and the thrusting in his backside. "You like having something in there, don't you? Something to fill you up?"

A mess of teeth and tongue to the underside of his jaw, before drawing back to his bruised neck, the pain mixing awfully with the pleasure that was making his hips buck and mouth fall open, gasp in the hot, nightmare soaked air as Wilson started to feel his mind become undone once more.

"I've got just the thing, pal."

Those words came and went through Wilsons head, gaping for breath as he rocked up and back between the two sensations, the added third talon stretching that burn into a heat that boiled within him, dick throbbing as his heart thundered and his chest heaved, almost reaching that edge, that precipice once more-

And then the talons gone, _again_ , hissing a sound that was more frustration than whimper as Wilson's eyes flashed open, mouth already snarled in agitation before-

Before something faintly cold and slimy brushed against his backside.

"W-wait, what-"

"Relax, pal." The Nightmare King was still hovering over him, still with that horribly wrong, too large and sharp toothed smile, not in the right position, and the shadows were still slipping, withering about the walls of his tent, but Wilson shivered as he felt the talons once again, the other pair still and firm to his thigh, ignoring his twitching dick. 

The claws against his ass were slippery, not quite warm but not too cold, and they brushed against him, that toothy smile seeming to take satisfaction in the fact that he was wide open and loose enough, the heat of embarrassment flooding back the previous pleasure, and Wilson opened his mouth, just about to protest or ask questions or-

But then pressure, faint but there, the cold sliminess of whatever that was coating Maxwell's talons easing over his burning skin, and then a...something a bit larger than the talons.

Wilson froze for only a second, then squirmed, at the pressure, the dawning sudden pain, and now his damn lust addled mind was reminding him of what this was actually all about, not _sex_ or just getting him off, god damn it-

The clawed hand on his thigh moved, pressed hotly to his chest to still him, and the Nightmare King leaned over a bit, that pressure held there, still, as his breath ghosted Wilson's face. 

"I said _relax_ , Higgsbury." Smooth, hissing low in a tone Wilson couldn't identify, and then he was suddenly engulfed, lips against his and his already parted mouth invaded, a sharp, inhuman tongue slipping in and slicking against his teeth, tangling with his own tongue as the weight atop him grew heavy and the pressure pressed against him-

Twisted, talons pricking his skin, he was worked open but not, not _enough-_

A burn of pain, for a moment, but not a tear as the feeling of suddenly being almost _filled_ striked through his brain and nerves, hands clawed desperately to the demons shoulders and body going shock still.

It didn't last long enough, not, not what he had actually thought moments before, the thought, that this wasn't about _sex_ flitted through Wilsons mind as those slick talons circled and rubbed his skin, a moment of intrusion as they slipped in, and there was a hand on his cock but it was only faint touches, not full strokes to keep him distracted when those talons pulled away briefly and then came back, slicked not too cold and not too warm and pressing something against him once more-

"W-wait-!" He was able to shake off the kiss, lips bruised and a faint taste of iron, blood from his lower lip as that long, inhuman tongue trailed away from his own mouth, but the Nightmare King did pause, dark eyes glittering and those sharp teeth stretched in a grin. "Y-you, you didn't, can't-"

"Can't what, pal?" Smooth and amused and that smile just thick in the air, as if giddy even, and Wilson felt the intrusion of pressure, that push against, into him, the slick hurrying it along and talons easing the way and that odd, just odd feeling rising from below his gut, souring the burn and yet not taking it away, he was still rock hard and the pleasure wasn't quite _gone_ , just distracted away with what was happening to him. "You agreed to this, Higgsbury."

There was a low hiss, darkening in tone as the demon's hand left his cock, rose and suddenly pressed, damp and hot and disgusting, to Wilsons cheek, the lean as the Nightmare King loomed over him, talons scraping against his insides and making his gut, somehow, heavier feeling, twist with that hidden pleasure.

"If you didn't _want_ this, pal, then you wouldn't have let me in here. You made your choice."

Those talons pulled away again, Wilson didn't know where they were going, _where the hell was Maxwell getting it_ , and then back again, cool and slimy and holding something that made his chest knot up with anxiety and fear and his own damnable _stupidity_ , got all caught up and lulled by getting jerked off and now he was getting-

Well, he _was_ getting what he had agreed to doing. Wilson had taken the deal knowing full well what it entailed, or at the very least the "general idea".

Not that the details said that the Nightmare King would give him a handjob or rough prostate massage in the meantime, or actually having the _fuel_ be put inside him like _this_.

 _Oh, right_ , Wilson dizzily thought, having shoved the more pressing nature of this whole interaction out from the get go, not wanting to think of it like _that_ , just, just nightmare fuel, it wasn't like _there was anything else to it_ -

Except there was, in the weight and solid nature of what those claws were holding, and the only thing he could vaguely be grateful for, as those damp talons went back to pumping his cock, this time with a bit more force, enough to shoot the pleasure straight back to his brain and near steal the air from his lungs, was that none of it was as big as he had feared it would turn out to be.

Wasn't much, as those talons pressed up and pushed into him, that squirming feeling under his gut, inside himself, and Wilson panted now, mind not quite able to go under the fog of lust any longer, knowing what was actually happening, and his words felt thick and slurred from his tongue but now he had too much to think about and he _has_ to say something.

"Th-the, where did, d-did you, w-what, oh~" Words were hard to spit out when there were claws rubbing up under his head, spreading his pre and pulling at his foreskin before resuming a steady pumping pace, and the heavy feeling, lump of weight and sliminess growing in his gut was outweighed by a shiver of nerves as talons curled in and went immediately back to fucking him, brushing his prostate with each thrust. Sucking in a breath, it's only been a few and his gut was feeling odd, not nauseous but something else, weighty, but Wilson furrowed his brow, forced the words out in at least one manageable question, one of the many sticking to the inside of his addled skull.

"H-how do th-they, ahh, work?"

Punctuated right when there was more pressure, talons having pulled out and produced another weight to press against him, ease into him, and Wilson squinted open his eyes, tried to ignore the pleasure and, now, the sensitivity of his dick, that rippling edge trying to wash him away even as he finally fought back, and the Nightmare King was there, smiling too many teeth and glittering pitch black eyes and inhumanly demonic.

"Why do you ask now, pal? Too blinded by your petty drama to recognize the opportunity earlier, hm?" There was that thick amusement, this time laced with something else, almost satisfaction and dark glee, as the demon leaned forward, breathed hot nightmarish fuel to wash over his face, make Wilson fight the urge to gag from the suddenness. His cock felt as if on fire, a burning deep within that mixed with the cold lead weights that had risen into his gut, twitching under the talons stroking him and fighting the urge to thrust, to buck into the pleasure even as talons busied with his ass, smearing that sliminess across his skin. 

Dark eyes locked with his, that ringing in his head softened by the carnal bliss and sounded almost as if a tune, some far away song that pounded in the backs of his eyes, but the demon just smiled at him, twisted his talons about Wilsons dick and then pinched, just as more pressure pressed into him again, made something that sounded like a whimper escape his throat and more than just embarrassment to bloom over his slack, gasping face.

"Too distracted by the thought of me watching you undress, me drinking in the sight of your ugly little body, of you baring yourself to me and my wants? Was your mind that occupied, thinking of my hands on your cock?"

Wilson grit his teeth at that, even as his gasps grew shallower, as the pressure under his belly grew, grew hotter and stronger than it did before as talons pressed another weight against, into him, slipping into his body in a way it wasn't meant to go but still somehow _was._

"A-answer the q-question-"

"You really want to know, pal?" The Nightmare King made a sound, something that might have been a laugh, as his talons rubbed and stroked and eased over the mortals body, and Wilson was mortal, no matter how many times he's died in this place, but the being before him was more demon than anything else.

And that demon was currently guiding objects into his body that shouldn't ever be there, all because he had stupidly said yes when it was first offered to him.

"The fuel will dissipate through your system, Higgsbury, eventually finding a way out." The grin on the Nightmare King's face spread, as if insinuating that there would be more than the common way out, and it would amuse him greatly when this would happen. "The shadows will travel through your lower intestines, leaving pieces of themselves behind to latch on, and the rest will congregate into your stomach."

It was getting too much for Wilson, a build up far worse than before, his hips twitching as he vainly fought the urge to thrust, vainly tried to not let his eyes close, hard dick stroked fast and firm and just _so_ , his back bending and the tensing of his body as he neared, rode the edge, jerking as the demon touched him, continued to ease things into him and smiling gleefully all the while.

"They will live off you, drain you, eat away your insides for as long as your body will feed them."

Hot breath, exhaled over his face and Wilson's eyes were shut tight, gasping for air, gasping at the pleasure that rushed through his nerves and was wrecking his mind in a bliss addled haze of sensation, the weight below, _in_ his gut now growing heavy the more the demon talked, the more Wilson found himself thrusting haphazardly into those hot gripping talons, the drag of skin to skin contact and the burning that had spread throughout his entire being, gasping as the air grew thin and was replaced by shadows and darkness and pleasure and bliss and _Maxwell-_

"And when they are done gnawing on your flesh, when you can house them no longer, they will-"

"S-stop-!"

Everything stopped. The world, the air itself didn't stop twisting, turning in a spiral as Wilson fought for breath, will forcing itself through, forcing his oversensitive, lust gorged body to slow, pause, _stop_ , but the talons upon him had frozen still, wrapped about his cock, cupped to his ass and staining his skin with what he knew now to be the nightmare fuel.

Wilson panted, heart hammering, and after a moment of silence he swallowed thickly, voice hoarse and thick.

"I, I think I k-know enough, now." He took in a deep breath, opened his eyes and locked gazes with the pitch black empty stare, unreadable and yet listening intently to his every word. Wilson paused a moment, and the fog was still swirling and he knew, right then, that he was going to cum the instant Maxwell did anything to him, it wouldn't matter what, if he waited long enough he might just orgasm hands free, but even though the words spoken to him were meant to be threatening in a dark, humorous way, Wilson was too far into this that there literally was no turning back for him.

One thought did poke its head up, through the fray of trembling lust, at the breaking point as Wilson sucked in another breath.

"It's, a deal's still a deal, right?"

He'll still get his end of the bargain, right?

The Nightmare King smiled at him, all fanged teeth and glittering eyes, talons tightening their hold on him, not too tight but firm, almost possessively.

"Oh, absolutely, Higgsbury." The talons about his backside pressed against his skin, pulled him a bit closer into the demon's lap, and those lips exhaled a hot breath across Wilson's face, still grinning all the while, eyes shining with something unreadable. "There is no backing out of it now, pal."

Wilson nodded, sluggish and bit clumsy as to almost bump his skull against the Nightmare Kings dark silhouette, but at the moment all he could focus on was those warm talons, creeping a hold to his throbbing cock, pre spilling and streaking across those dark clawed hands that held him so steadily.

He laid back his head, a heavy exhale as he anticipated those talons to circle about his ass again, dip their claws and curl and possibly even try to get more nightmare fuel into him, anticipated the light ghosting touch to his hard dick, but what Wilson didn't anticipate was for that breath to ease back against his ear, the demons low voice hushed, almost a pleased hint of a whisper.

"For all your drama and troubles, going about this, Higgsbury…" The Nightmare Kings voice paused, as a lone talon dragged up Wilsons cock, made the edge suddenly lurch forward and his eyes to squeeze shut, a gasp bursting from his throat as a hot palm pressed to his fluid streaked head. "It was much, much more difficult for me to create them from myself than to stick them in you."

The statement wasn't much, but the flush of an image, of the Nightmare King, demon, _Maxwell_ , laying in a similar position as Wilson, in the dark and shadows, nude and having to-

It flashed through Wilsons head, just as those talons gripped him tight and pumped him, once, twice, talons curved in his ass and thrusting into him at an almost synced pace, and he was done.

The pleasure burst sharp, harsh, a sound, a groan, more like a piercing shout as his cock throbbed hard and those dark talons became streaked in white, stroking him through his near blinding orgasm, stars and static and blood rushing through his ears as Wilson arched and thrust his hips, whole body jerking as the bliss encompassed his sense of self and completely drowned him under it and the dark and shadows and Maxwell's clever taloned hands.

The demon milked him for each thrust, talons buried deep within him and making his legs tense, thighs twitching as the pleasure blew over and folded, dropping him exhausted into the fur bedding. Cum covered his stomach, splattered across his chest as he heaved for breath, eyes open and staring, glazed and weightless up into the swirling shadows filling his tent to the brim. Sensitivity had his muscles jerk, eyes shutting tight as the Nightmare Kings talons removed themselves from his backside, instead spreading, slimy and stained with fuel, palm down against his chest, and Wilson raised his head from the blankets, those hot claws still clasped about his softening cock, still rubbing his head and spreading his spilled seed across his skin.

The weight held, as Wilsons exhausted body twitched and tensed under the continued stroking, still trying to get his breath back as he raised his legs and pressed his knees to the demons sides as warning, not able to push those talons off yet as they dragged his pleasure out, up until it was pain mixing too strong and Wilson had to press a hand to a bony shoulder, throat dry and voice rough but his slurred "s-stop" finally stilling those hot hands.

They pulled away, let Wilson heave a heavy exhale, almost a stuttered sigh as he closed his eyes, and like this, completely relaxed and untensed from how he had been, he could feel the new weight of his gut.

It sat heavy, lodged almost, like in his throat and yet not, and Wilson hesitated a moment, the tent quiet now, silent, before raising a hand, still trembling a bit from the strength of his climax, and pressed his palm to the middle of his belly.

For a moment, nothing. Nothing but the shadows in the air and the demon, who he knew was watching him, closely, still sitting there with Wilson's legs pressed up against his sides. Waiting.

And then Wilson had to pull his hand back, back into the fur bedding, a faint flutter of discomfort, of knowing that a deal was, indeed, a deal, clouding up in his chest and mind.

Hot talons replaced where his hand had been, gentle and slow, circling his gut and not minding his spilled seed, and Wilson heard the Nightmare King hum in deep, dark satisfaction as the skin of his belly strained, for only a moment, the faint withering of something inside of him.

When Maxwell leaned down to kiss him, all sharp teeth and slithering tongue, Wilson kept his eyes shut tight.

But he still kissed back.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the worst thing I've ever written and I am not sorry.


End file.
